


The Young Build Homes

by littlev123



Category: IT - Stephen King, 弱虫ペダル | Yowamushi Pedal
Genre: Abuse, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Bullying, Death, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Major character death - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-03-24 23:46:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13821993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlev123/pseuds/littlev123
Summary: “Maybe, he thought, there aren’t any such things as good friends or bad friends—maybe there are just friends, people who stand by you when you’re hurt and who help you feel not so lonely. Maybe they’re always worth being scared for, and hoping for, and living for. Maybe worth dying for, too, if that’s what has to be. No good friends. No bad friends. Only people you want, need to be with; people who build their houses in your heart.” – Stephen King,ItA Yowamushi Pedal It AU.





	1. Onoda

**Author's Note:**

> Hello dear readers! I’ve been wanting to write this AU for a long while now. Since I’m fairly busy, my writing may not be as edited or polished as it normally would be, but this is a more self-indulgent project anyway. 
> 
> A few things before you start reading:  
> -please make sure to check the tags every time I add a chapter.  
> -Pennywise will work a little differently in this fic (but don’t worry, the big things like scaring and killing are still very much present).  
> -the only main pairing is Miki/Aya. All others will be implied or in the background (and will be added in the tags as needed).  
> -the high school is based more on an American high school.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

_“…high schooler with green and red hair. He was last seen leaving school on Monday afternoon. If anyone has any information regarding his disappearance, please call the emergency hotline…”_

_As the newswoman switched to an economics report, the young man watching the dim colors of the old boxy television set crossed his arms. He rolled the plastic toothpick between his lips from one side of his mouth to the other as his pensive frown deepened._

_“Why can’t I shake off this bad feeling…?” he mumbled. He leaned back on the box he sat on and stretched out his legs, one of which gave a familiar twinge. Absently rubbing his knee—the old injury had ached especially fierce all day—he made sure to avoid bumping his foot into one of the many boxes strewn about the tiny break room._

_Logically, the connection between four years ago and this incident was fragile at best. Yet last night’s nightmare flashed across his mind again: the agonized screams ripping out of his own throat, razor-sharp teeth gouging into his knee, the burn of his back scraping against tree roots and uneven ground as claws mercilessly dragged him across the forest floor—_

_His lungs stuttered with quickened, distressed breaths. Holding his head between his quavering hands, he forced himself to focus on the grounding habit of chewing on and restlessly toying with the toothpick._

_Bite, chew, roll. Bite, chew, roll. Bite, chew, roll._

_It soon poked the top of his mouth; he must have bent it. But it served its purpose. Just calm enough to string together coherent thought, he spat it out onto his palm and surveyed the damaged stick._

_Thanking the fact that his younger sister wasn’t there, he resolved to avoid falling into flashbacks again. The best he could, anyway._

_Turning off the television, he cast aside his suspicions. The nightmare had put him on edge, and his brain was making links that weren’t there. That must be it._

_Yet he knew that he’d be keeping a closer eye on the news from now on._

_Standing, he tossed the toothpick into a nearby trash can, picked up the little container sitting on top of the TV, and shook out a new one. After placing it between his lips, he left the room and closed the door behind him._

\--

**Onoda**

“We’re going to do a group project starting today. Make groups of three to four people, and then I’ll give you the assignment.”

Shoes scuffed against the floor as students rose from their desks and chatter filled the air. Onoda stared at the artificial wood grain of his desk, and his heart thumped at the prospect of working with potentially uncouth classmates. Since he was not close to anyone in this class, he hoped for the best case scenario: a few stragglers would find themselves wandering to his desk, where they could awkwardly divvy out the work and not speak to each other until the day it was due.

“Onoda, right?”

He looked up as two boys stopped in front of his desk. The one who spoke he recognized as Teshima, an intelligent upperclassman with dark wavy hair. Beside him stood Aoyagi, a far quieter yet subtly strong presence. While Onoda rarely spoke with them, they had never showed hostility toward him in the past, so he heaved an internal sigh of relief.

For a moment his gaze was drawn to the white bandages peeking out from underneath Aoyagi’s bangs, which covered most of where his eye would normally be. A week ago the boy had come to school like that, with the area above his right cheekbone swathed in gauze. And if he was quiet before, then he was nearly silent now. Everyone also took note of how the already close pair were now inseparable, as if Teshima feared letting the other out of his sight. Countless rumors were still running through the halls about them: _they’re totally dating and a jealous ex of Teshima’s attacked him, I heard Aoyagi lost his eye by falling on a railroad spike, maybe he stabbed himself and Teshima’s making sure he doesn’t do it again._

Whatever caused the injury, Onoda made sure to not let his gaze linger too long and looked back at Teshima. “Yes, that’s me!” he responded with a tad too much force.

Luckily the two didn’t seem fazed, and Teshima offered him an easygoing smile. “Can we join you?”

After meekly nodding, the pair pulled up chairs, slid them in front of his desk, and sat down.

“We’ll probably have to make some sort of slide show for one of the books we read,” Teshima guessed.

Aoyagi gave a thoughtful hum in response.

“Oh, good point. She did say she wanted us to at least one speech in this class.”

Onoda glanced between them in confusion. How did he get that from Aoyagi’s hum? “A-Ah, well, I hope it’s not a speech. I’m terrible at those.”

“Don’t worry, I can give you pointers if that does happen. And we won’t have to talk up there alone at least,” Teshima reassured.

Despite his misgivings about public speaking, he had to admit that the other’s words managed to ease a sliver of his worry.

When Aoyagi placed a phone in front of him, Onoda blinked at the “new contact” screen several times before he realized what the other was asking. “…you want my phone number?” He tentatively picked up the phone, added his full name and number, and then handed it back to Aoyagi, who checked the screen and gave a satisfied nod.

“Just in case we have to talk outside of school,” Teshima elaborated. Before he could say more, the teacher started handing out their assignments—it was just a slide show project, thank god. The students would be listlessly staring at the slides instead of being forced to focus to focus on him anxiously slogging through a speech.

The three spent the rest of the period discussing their topic, and Onoda was eternally grateful that his partners seemed amiable and easy to work with.

\--

Exiting the classroom with books and folders held against his chest, Onoda glanced down at the _Love Hime_ bookmark sticking out of a textbook. On the glossy paper, a purple-haired anime smiled brightly back at him while soft pink bubbles covered the background. Somehow it had almost fallen out of the top of the book; he pinched it between his fingers and slid it back between the pages.

Just as he started to lift his head, he collided with a solid torso and stumbled. His books tumbled from his fingers.

Panic flared in his chest and tightened his throat. “I-I’m so sorry!” Hastily dropping to his knees to pick up his scattered belongings, he was all too aware of the eyes on him that he couldn’t bring himself to face.

“Ugh, it’s that weird guy.” An unfamiliar voice scoffed to his right. Onoda bit his lip to stop it from trembling. “I bet he was too busy thinking about kinky cartoon shit to look where he was going.”

_“Oi.”_

He flinched at the sharp voice directly in front of him—that second one must be who he bumped into. Keeping his terrified gaze firmly on the floor, he snatched up the last paper with shaking hands. Squeaking out another “s-sorry!” he scrambled to his feet started rushing down the hallway.

A hand flew out and grasped his shoulder.

Inhaling sharply, he jerked away from the touch and accidentally slammed himself against a locker door. Past the ringing in his ears he caught another voice.

“Onoda! Onoda, it’s us, it’s okay!”

 _Naruko._ Instantly his shoulders slumped with relief, and he released a jittery sigh. Finally lifting his gaze, he caught the redhead’s concerned expression. Miki and Aya, standing on either side of Naruko, also cast him worried looks.

“Did something happen?” Miki gently questioned.

Aya started rolling up her sleeves to reveal leanly muscled forearms. “Did someone pick on you?”

“No, no, it’s fine, just a little uh,” he quickly rambled. The moment had been horrific, but he had gotten off with only a couple insults. It could have been a lot worse. “I bumped into someone. I was so scared that I picked up my things and ran off! That’s all.”

“You sure that’s all? Because Aya and I can go find the bastard and beat him to a pulp,” Naruko promised, resolve sparking in his red eyes like embers ready to catch fire at the slightest gust.

Seeing them worry over his wellbeing and rise to his defense never failed to stir warmth in his heart. Even so, he smiled gratefully and shook his head. He had no desire to harm—it had been his fault the altercation happened anyway—and he didn’t want his friends to get themselves injured either. Naruko and Aya were persistent, fiery fighters when they wanted to be. But even they could only do so much against bigger bullies who always moved in packs, as proved by the blotchy bruise on Naruko’s thin arm.

“I’m sure. Thanks.” Noticing one of their usual group members was absent, he glanced around. “Where’s Manami?”

“He wasn’t in class,” Miki recalled.

Aya rolled her eyes. “Like that’s any surprise. He only shows up half the time.”

“I’ll text him in a minute. He might still want to hang out with us later,” Onoda said.

Naruko slung an arm around his shoulders, and he flashed a toothy grin. “Speaking of that! Miki, you said your brother is tossing out the expired snacks today, right?” Miki’s brother ran a convenience store, and whenever he built up on expired stock that he couldn’t sell to customers, he left it to her and her friends.

“Yep!”

“Sweet! I call dibs on the hot Cheetas.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Onoda noticed someone walk up to the nearby bulletin board adorning the opposite wall.

“Is there something new on there?” Naruko asked as he and the others looked over as well.

“I don’t think so…but someone’s looking at it,” the bespectacled male responded.

In the center of the board, surrounded by the lunch menu and flyers discouraging drugs and sex, was a missing poster. The disgruntled expression of a slim, angular face with green hair faced the passing students. A corner was slightly creased; the paper had hung there for a month now, so it was a wonder it hadn’t received more damage. Yet the person surveyed the poster as if he might find something new by searching long enough.

“I think that’s Toudou. I’ve seen him looking at the board a few times, but usually in the mornings.” Even though there was no possibility Toudou could overhear them, Miki lowered her voice nonetheless.

Unable to see his face, they watched his thumb tenderly smooth out the crease on the poster.

“They still don’t have any leads, do they?” Onoda morosely mumbled.

Aya shook her head. “Not that I know of.”

Receiving the distinct feeling that they were intruding upon an intimate scene, despite the students talking and milling about the open hallways, they were about to look away when several students approached Toudou. Like a mood switch had been flipped, his mouth morphed into a charismatic smile as he said some smug, flirtatious remark that left a few people swooning.

“…hey.”

Onoda’s heart missed a beat. _That voice…and it’s close…!_

He took a deep breath. His friends were beside him, everything would be all right, and no punches had been thrown yet. Those were all good signs. Probably. Maybe he just wanted to warn him not to bump into him again?

Turning with his pulse pounding, he faced the tall male looking directly at him. Before he could wilt under the stern gaze, Miki stepped forward to divert the other’s attention.

“Hi,” she calmly greeted. Her sunny smile worked as a soft barrier against possible animosity; whether the gesture grew genuine or turned into a steely frown depended on the stranger’s next lines.

He glanced away and rubbed the back of his neck. While his mouth remained in a set, stern line, the actions almost made it seem…like he felt awkward?

“I saw this on the floor after you left. I’m assuming it’s yours.” He held out the _Love Hime_ bookmark.

Onoda hesitated in surprise. “I…yeah, that’s mine.” He gingerly accepted it and slipped it between random pages of his math textbook.

The subtle tension in Miki’s shoulders dissipated, and in turn so did Aya’s. Naruko still eyed the other distrustfully.

“What’s your game?” Naruko demanded. “I recognize you. You’re that popular hotshot Imaizumi, aren’t you? Did someone dare you to come over here?”

“Nothing, yes, and no,” Imaizumi coolly answered. “Are you done interrogating someone twice your size?”

“What did you just say—”

Aya placed a hand on her hip. “Can’t blame us for asking. Most people who walk up to us don’t have good intentions in mind.”

“Actually, I think I recognize you too. You’re in my art class,” Miki realized.

Imaizumi nodded. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he checked the screen. “I have to go.”

“Wait!” The outburst left Onoda’s lips before he thought better of it. Sheepish at Imaizumi’s raised eyebrow, he swallowed and continued. “Ah, thank you! For giving my bookmark back. It really means a lot.”

His gaze flicked away again. “…you’re welcome. And that asshole I was with…ignore everything he said.”

Without giving them time to respond, Imaizumi turned and headed down the hall. Still uncertain what to make of the exchange, the group turned back to each other.

“He seemed nice,” Miki remarked.

“I dunno about that…something about him rubs me the wrong way. But he did give Onoda’s thing back, so he’s not on my immediate shit list,” Naruko grumbled.

Aya abruptly, if lightly, smacked Onoda across the back of his head, and he gave a startled yelp. “Ignore everything an asshole said? So someone was mean to you!”

“A-Ah! Um, there was some mean stuff…but no one physically hurt me, I swear!”

“And it’s over with now,” Miki assured her, and she grasped the other female’s hand. Aya clicked her tongue at the obvious attempt to calm her, but she curled her fingers around Miki’s hand nonetheless. “And Onoda says he’s okay. But next time you will tell us if someone hurts you again, right?”

“Yeah,” Onoda agreed, and he hoped he could stick to that promise. He appreciated that his friends would defend him, he really did; yet sometimes words stuck in his throat, and he’d rather ignore the bad stuff that happened than talk about it.

Naruko hummed in satisfaction. “Good! We gotta watch out for each other. And it’s not like you’re the only one who needs help; I know Aya would beat the hell out of anyone who tries to touch me. Not that there’s no one I can’t fight myself, but that’s not the point!”

“Damn straight I would,” Aya confirmed.

“Oh! Sorry to change the subject, but I just realized what time it is,” Miki commented, glancing at her phone. “We should hurry before my brother starts wondering where we are.”

“What are we waiting for then? Let’s go!” Naruko led the way, and the other three had to quicken their steps to catch up. Once through the doors, he slowed to a walking pace due to Aya and Onoda’s complaints.

Onoda fell into step beside Naruko, while Miki and Aya led the way, hands still joined. He shot a quick text to Manami about where they were going and stuffed his phone back in his pocket.

A random student that strode by them loudly whispered to another student. “There go the lesbos; can’t believe they’re still hanging out with those boys. I thought all lesbos are manhaters.”

“Piss off,” Naruko growled, even though the aggressors were likely out of earshot. Aya scowled and flipped the bird to their backs, and Miki threaded her fingers through Aya’s instead of letting go.

Onoda’s grip on his books tightened. Outrage simmered, yet he didn’t know what to do with it. Aya and Naruko usually channeled their aggression into fights and spitting insults, but the bespectacled male had all the strength of a baby bird. Miki countered with passionate, silver-tongued rebuttals of defense. However, he was terrible with keeping composure. Maybe he could act more like Manami? Manami deflected slurs like he couldn’t care less what others thought, but the second hate was directed toward a friend he would gain an almost unstable gleam to his eyes that scared off many. Too bad Onoda was as scary as a hamster.

He wanted to help, wanted to protect his friends, and he despised that he was so useless at it. All he could do was take hits meant for them when possible and support them in the aftermath.

Naruko was talking again. Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Onoda smiled back and responded. The four left the school grounds without further incident, and thanks to their amiable conversations he found his mood lifting.

A few blocks down the street stood a small retail store. The outside was tan brick and tall windows. Across the top in bold blue paint read “Kanzaki Konvenience.”

They entered through the front door. Miki’s older brother, Kanzaki Toji, waved at them from the register.

“Yo,” he greeted, the ever-present toothpick moving as he spoke. “The stuff’s in the backroom for you all to go through.”

“Awesome! I’m getting those hot Cheetas!”

“Fine, but you better not get in between me and the Sour Batch Brats!”

Aya and Naruko rushed to the back. Onoda and Miki gave fond, amused sighs as Kanzaki chuckled.

“Good to know their appetites are healthy,” Kanzaki commented, tone light with sarcasm. “So, did you all have a good day at school?”

Both teenagers hesitated.

Smile diminishing with empathy, Kanzaki ran a hand through his hair. “Not so great, I’m guessing.”

“It could have been worse,” Miki piped up.

Onoda nodded. “That’s true…I did meet three nice people today. There are these two guys I have to do a project with. One of them is quiet, so I never know what he’s thinking. But some people are just quiet, ah, kind of like me when I get scared. Anyway, the other one’s nice and good at schoolwork. Then the third guy, Imaizumi. He gave me back my bookmark…looking back on it, he was so cool, facing Miki like that…!” His giddy smile had widened with each fond sentence.

She grabbed his arm, her grin matching his. “He really was cool! Especially the way he answered Naruko like that.”

The muffled squeaking of a plastic bag being yanked open came through the cracked door.

“Hate to interrupt you two, but you should get back there before all the snacks are taken,” Kanzaki advised.

“Right! We’ll let you get back to work,” Miki said over her shoulder as she went into the backroom. 

“One more thing, Onoda.”

“Hm?” He paused right before he reached the door.

“When you go home from here, you use the road with the Tadokoro bakery, right?”

“Yes?”

Kanzaki plucked the toothpick from his lips and held it between his fingers. “The Tadokoros adopted two big dogs today. I’m sure they’ll stay in the yard, but I wanted to let you know.”

Dogs. Onoda could handle the little ones, as uneasy as they made him. But the loud, booming barks and massive size of larger canines never failed to set him on edge. No matter how well trained they were, he couldn’t ignore how _easily_ such animals could maim him if they chose to.

He nodded gratefully. “I-I’ll keep that in mind.”

With that, he left to join the others. Haphazardly piled onto the floor and on boxes, various expired snacks waited patiently for their stomachs. Naruko finished gorging on a bag of hot Cheetos before grabbing more bags of chips with his cheese dust covered fingers. He then stuffed them into his ratty backpack. He always gathered more than his friends; he would divide it up at home amongst himself and his family.

Miki and Aya sat shoulder to shoulder, and Onoda plopped down right next to a stack of chocolate bars, one of which he promptly opened and bit into.

Miki curiously checked the ingredients on the back of a box of Watermelon Bop-Tarts. “Dextrose, malic acid, xanthum gum, red 40 lake…I wonder how they come up with these names.”

“They sound dangerous for something we’re supposed to eat,” Onoda nonchalantly commented. He then bit another chunk off his chocolate and, when she opened the Bop-Tart box and handed a package to him, he accepted it without the slightest hint of concern.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take!” Naruko moved his fingers to his mouth, about to lick off the cheese dust, when a packet of wet wipes lightly smacked into his arm.

“You touched stuff with those fingers.” Miki nodded her head at his backpack. “Don’t put them in your mouth.”

“Fine, fine,” he grumbled and moodily cleaned his fingers with a wet wipe.

The door opened once more. They looked up to see Manami, who sported his usual airy grin. A few leaves stuck to his wrinkled shirt, and a twig was caught in his hair.

“Manami!” Onoda happily greeted. “We were wondering where you were.”

“You look like you just climbed a tree,” Aya remarked.

Sitting between Onoda and Naruko, Manami plucked a wipe out of the packet sitting on the redhead’s lap. “I did.”

Confusion flashed over the others’ faces—only for them to shrug it off a few seconds later.

“I didn’t know you were good at climbing trees,” Miki said.

Manami thoroughly sanitized his hands before dropped the used wipe on the floor. “I wanted to see what the forest looked like from higher up.”

Onoda cast him a wide-eyed, worried glance. The closest forest was on the border of Sohoku, and it was off limits! What if the bear that hurt Kanzaki four years ago came back?!

The blue-haired male noticed his look and cast him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I only climbed a tree at the very edge of the forest. It was fine.”

“Besides, nothing can kill a crazy bastard like him,” Aya reminded. Naruko nodded in agreement.

“Ah ha…I feel like there could have been a better way to put that…” Manami abashedly tugged at the collar of his shirt.

Still unconvinced, Onoda struggled to prevent his mind from falling into thoughts of what terrible events could have happened.

“Why don’t you tell us about the newest episode of _Love Hime_?” Manami suggested.

Catching on, Miki nodded. “I heard it was really intense.”

Onoda instantly brightened, all fear banished, and he excitedly clasped his hands together. “It was! It started off with a flashback to episode eleven, when…” He babbled on until he had gushed over every detail of the episode. While he caught his breath, the others struck up another silly conversation and started cleaning up wrappers. Then they gathered their piles and headed outside.

Right before they parted ways to head home, Onoda was relieved to hear Miki asking Manami to be more careful. The bespectacled male’s house was in the opposite direction of everyone else’s, so he walked home alone.

The familiar path presented no anxiety until he reached Tadokoro’s bakery. He made sure to stay on the opposite side of the narrow street. Even so, through the tall fence, which had gaps in between posts, he spotted wide canine noses curiously snuffling. No deep barks were directed his way, thank goodness. Hurrying past, he didn’t notice he was holding his breath until he was well away from the building.

He was grateful Kanzaki warned him beforehand; knowing they were there had allowed him to brace himself.

The rest of his walk went without incident, and soon enough he retreated into his house and joined his mother for dinner.

\--

The next day, Teshima and Aoyagi weren’t in class.

While the other students moved back into their groups, Onoda checked his phone.

He hadn’t received any texts from them. However, they could just be busy with something else or sick and had forgotten to contact him.

Since they had his number but he didn’t have theirs—he should have asked for it in hindsight—he had no way to ask them where they were.

Oh well; they still had plenty of days left to finish their project, and they would likely be back tomorrow or the day after.

So he slid his phone back into his pocket, took out the assignment, and started working on his part while the other groups gossiped around him.

\--

Two days later with still no word, Onoda woke to the abrupt, grating sound of a phone alert. Reluctantly rolling over, he patted his nightstand until his fingers found hard plastic and thin frames. In the dark of early morning, he slipped the glasses on and squinted against the brightness of the device’s screen.

His burning eyes shot wide open.

**EMERGENCY ALERT  
SOHOKU MISSING CHILDREN ALERT**

Shock numbed all sensation except for the foreboding churning in his stomach.

His thumb hovered over the screen. He didn’t know how much time passed; the phone went dark from inaction.

As the sun’s rising rays peeked through the blinds, he finally opened the alert’s details and confirmed his premonition.


	2. Nostalgia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will have mini-chapters in between the main chapters, and this is the first one.
> 
> (Look who wrote a chapter about Mario Kart despite not having played it in years hahaaaa)

_Five months ago_

“I’m making all of you my bitches tonight,” Aya proclaimed as she dropped to the floor beside Miki. Grabbing two controllers, she kept one for herself and handed the other to her girlfriend.

“I beg to differ! I’m an experienced Yario Cart player, and I know all the ins and outs of the rainbow course,” Sugimoto cordially countered. He and Manami and situated themselves in front of the television and picked up controllers as well. While Onoda crawled over to the Woo U and turned on the console, Naruko plopped onto a beanbag. The latter two wouldn’t be playing yet, but watching and cheering on the others was almost as fun as playing themselves.

Once the bright colors of the television screen flashed on and they moved onto the player select screen, Manami immediately chose Bashful Boy.

“Why do you always choose him?” Naruko questioned, and he shifted to allow Onoda more room to sit on the floor in front of him.

Manami hummed in thought. The Bashful Boy’s masked face, complete with circular black voids for eyes, patiently waited onscreen. “…I feel like we have a lot in common.”

Everyone waited a few seconds, expecting elaboration, but the blue-haired male only apologetically shrugged.

“Maybe it’s because you’re kind of mysterious?” Onoda suggested.

“I don’t know about mysterious,” Miki commented. She flicked through the roster a couple times before deciding on Beeowser. The giant black and yellow reptile roared his approval. “It’s more like you have a lot of depth to you.”

The blue-haired male smiled. “Thanks. But compliments aren’t going to stop me from destroying you.”

Miki grinned. “Big words! You better back them up.”

“You got this, babe.” Aya gently bumped her shoulder against hers before settling on Bonkey Tong.

“Hey, don’t count me out either. I almost won last week’s round,” Sugimoto reminded them. After he selected the little being floating on a cloud called Rakitu, they all picked courses and prepared to start.

Air thick with tension, each player readied their thumbs over the accelerator buttons.

_**3** _

Naruko leaned forward and gripped Onoda’s shoulders; the boy underneath him, equally as in suspense, held his breath.

_**2** _

Carts’ engines revved. Sugimoto’s brow furrowed in concentration.

_**1** _

Manami licked his lips in anticipation, and the girls’ faces were nothing but serious.

_**START** _

As they pulled away from the starting line, Sugimoto charged ahead only to be mercilessly bumped aside by Miki’s Beeowser.

“Ah!”

“What are you doing man?! Go after her!” Naruko ordered.

“I know, I know!” Sugimoto exclaimed. Rakitu straightened out and chased after the other drivers. Meanwhile, Bashful Boy drifted around the first corner with Bonkey Tong close behind.

The first two laps were filled with friendly shit-talking and ruthless racing. Just when it seemed like one person was too far in the lead, a heartless blue shell would knock them pack in place. A few times Aya nearly fell behind, but some lucky item grabs saved her.

Upon crossing into the third lap, Miki suddenly leaned against Aya. “You’re doing so great!” She then planted a quick kiss to the other’s cheek and, without missing a beat, went back to playing.

Aya, taken by surprise, felt her thumb slip, and she watched helplessly as her character careened off the path. “Traitor,” she huffed.

Miki simply grinned wider and kept her gaze focused on the screen.

Naruko’s fingers gripped the back of Onoda’s shirt. “Oh shit—”

“—Manami’s got a blue shell!” Onoda finished.

“I sure do,” he confirmed.

Miki, who was currently in the lead, paled. “Ah ha, why don’t we make it a fair race to the finish? We don’t need blue shells.”

“All’s fair in love and war,” Sugimoto disagreed. With his Rakitu right behind Bashful Boy, he was in no danger.

“You heard him,” Manami said, and with the press of a button he unleashed the blue blur.

“No!” The shell bashed into Beeowser, stopping the driver and ruining heard-earned momentum.

Now that Miki and Aya had fallen to the back, Sugimoto and Manami raced toward the finish. Neck in neck, drifting around the final corner, Sugimoto straightened out a mere moment before the other.

“How?!” Manami cried out, yet the far too elated smile on his face revealed how much he was enjoying the thrill. The finish line lay directly ahead.

“I spent a whole night playing only this course with my brother!” Sugimoto proudly revealed. “I know it like the back of my hand.”

“Kudos. But I can still win!”

“Try me!”

Naruko and Onoda joined in on the jeers and cheering; their words grew louder and quicker with each passing moment. Aya and Miki yelled out a few of their own remarks, too, but they were still focused on reaching the end of the track.

Then, winning by half a second, Rakitu crossed the checkered line first.

Sugimoto stared at the gold “1st” glimmering in the corner of the screen. Then Naruko reached over to give him a congratulatory slap on the back, causing the dark-haired male to be started out of his stupor.

“Look at this guy, showing up Manami!” Naruko praised.

A beaming grin broke out on Sugimoto’s face. Dropping the controller onto the carpet, he thrust his hands into the air. “Oh my god, I did! I won!”

“Yeah yeah, you’re just lucky you didn’t have a girlfriend tricking you into messing up,” Aya grumbled as she followed Miki over the finish line. But the corner of her lips tugged upward anyway.

“That was a good race,” Manami remarked, placing his controller in his lap and leaning back on his hands.

Sugimoto nodded. “An excellent one. I’m pumped up for the next round. Who’s on?”

After five more races, each of which they switched up players and continued to throw playful insults and the occasional compliment, they decided to call it a night. Sugimoto had won another race, giving him a score of two; Miki won one; Onoda won one; and Manami redeemed himself by winning on the last track. Onoda’s mother made each one of the bespectacled male’s friends take a cutely shaped snack before they left and loudly welcomed them to come back again, much to Onoda’s chagrin.


	3. Miki

The crisp, chill morning air bit through Miki’s jacket. Repressing a shiver, she declined her older brother’s suggestion to wait inside the store, and they watched the delivery truck driver park his vehicle. As the engine’s rumbling died, she glanced at the dull, dark bags underneath Kanzaki’s eyes.

Catching her look, he hummed a questioning note. His toothpick bobbed as he readjusted it between his lips.

She shook her head and smiled. He seemed satisfied with that and turned away, which she was grateful for. After voicing her worries about him numerous times, as well as hearing his excuses, she didn’t want to try again in front of the driver.

“Morning, Koga,” Kanzaki greeted the broad-shouldered man, who slid out of his seat and shut the vehicle’s door behind him.

“Good morning!” Miki pulled her hands out of her pockets and rubbed them together.

“Morning,” he returned. Keys jingling in his hand, he headed to the back of the truck. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Miki.”

“Normally I’d still be asleep. School doesn’t start for another two hours.”

“She’s staying here until Onoda’s mom picks her up. I told the kids that no one’s allowed to walk alone on the streets, even if it’s just a short distance,” Kanzaki explained.

“Because of the missing kids?” When Kanzaki nodded, Koga unlocked the trunk and continued. “It’s always good to be safe, but I wouldn’t worry too much. It’s been a long time since the green-haired kid went missing, and the news said the recent two ran away.”

Miki stayed silent. She had noticed that Onoda still thought about Teshima and Aoyagi’s absence often despite having hardly known the two.

Kanzaki joined Koga and observed the boxes they needed to unload. “Just because they were orphans doesn’t mean they ran away,” he muttered, and Miki just barely heard the words from where she stood by the propped open store door.

“But it is common for them to do that,” Koga reminded.

“…well, whatever happened, it’s always good to be safe. Like you said.” Kanzaki’s voice sounded tight, and his jaw clenched. Then he winced and spat his now bent toothpick into his palm.

“You’re going to ruin your teeth chewing on those things. Are you all right?” Koga questioned.

“Yeah.” He patted his pockets. “Ah, man. Must have left my box of ‘em inside.”

“I’ll get them,” Miki insisted. She was growing restless from the conversation, so she thrust her hand out to him.

He hesitated, glanced at Koga, and then dropped the toothpick into her waiting hand. “Okay. I bet they’re on the counter.”

She nodded and turned on her heel. As they started grabbing boxes, she walked inside and tossed the plastic into a trash can. It fell and joined the other bent toothpicks littering the bottom.

Entering the storefront, she stepped behind the counter. The fluorescent lights buzzed quietly. Since the store wasn’t open yet, the building was devoid of customers.

She spotted the box of toothpicks sitting on the far side on the counter; he had been sweeping earlier and must have absentmindedly set it down there.

As she reached for it, a light thunk and rattle made her jump. Whirling her head around, she stared at an unopened bottle of pills on the floor. A shelf above it had an empty space.

Releasing a nervous laugh to herself, she turned back to her goal and grasped the box. The bottle had probably been sitting on the edge this whole time, and it finally chose to fall. She should put it back before customers arrived.

Miki idly drug her hand along the counter as she walked to the open side of the counter.

Her fingers suddenly encountered wetness. Surprised, she brought her hand up to her face. Slick red shone on her fingertips.

_Did I hurt myself…?_

She checked the counter. A small streak of blood painted the surface where she had touched it.

Grabbing a roll of paper towels near the register, she ripped off one and wiped her hand. Then she inspected her fingers. There were no cuts or marks marring the skin.

“Am I seeing things?”

She hadn’t spoken.

Jumping, she choked on a gasp. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest, and her pulse skyrocketed when she saw her own face looking back at her.

The other Miki smiled, the corners of its lips stretching unnaturally far upward. “I sure hope I’m not crazy!” it declared, pitch a perfect imitation of Miki’s.

“W-What…?”

“You know. Craaaazy!” It twirled a finger beside its ear. The purple fabric of its sweatshirt morphed into sterile white. The sleeves elongated to cover its hands and, as if the newly formed strait jacket had a mind of its own, yanked the other Miki’s arms to its opposite sides. The sound of shoulders popping reverberated throughout the store.

Miki’s breath caught in her throat. Horror scattered coherent thought, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

 _Stop stop stop, this isn’t happening, this isn’t real, when I look it’s going to be gone._ Pain sparked in her scalp as her trembling fingers fisted in her hair. _I’m dreaming I have to be wake up wakeupwakeupwakeup—_

A resounding slap echoed in her hears. Eyes snapping open, she saw that the other now sported a large red mark across one cheek. The outline looked eerily similar to that of her father’s hand.

“Ow! …guess I better get used to that, huh?” It took a step forward.

Miki scrambled backward, and her back hit the covered shelves behind her. Terrified tears burned at the corners of her eyes. She opened her mouth to scream, but a strip of the strait jacket flew off and plastered to her nose and mouth.

Oxygen abruptly cut off, she dug her fingers into the fabric and _pulled._ The cloth refused to budge.

The monster grinned, revealing yellow, razor-sharp teeth in a mouth far too big for a human face. The strait jacket tightened. Bones audibly creaked under the pressure. Yet it started walking forward, and with each step she heard sickening snaps.

Growing lightheaded, the girl fell to her knees. Among the dark splotches in her vision she saw a familiar rounded object built into the underneath of the counter.

She rapidly beat the store’s panic button. The monster’s giggling, a hellish amalgamation of her voice and otherworldly rasp, grew closer and closer. Blurry gaze on the floor tiles, she saw the creature’s shadow peek over the counter.

Then, the next thing she knew, the cloth on her mouth dissolved. Her mouth sucked in a hasty breath that ached in her throat and chest, but she was too grateful for the sweet oxygen’s return to care. Other than her ragged panting, silence blanketed the building.

Her muscles tensed when footsteps returned, but then they were accompanied by Kanzaki’s distressed “Miki!”

Kanzaki knelt down beside her, eyes wide and searching for injuries. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Tears slid down her cheeks. “I-I-I…I s-saw…”

“What did you see?”

 _Toji didn’t see it._ Had it left before he got there? Or…had it all been in her head…?

_“Craaaazy!”_

Like jumping into the ocean during winter, an icy wave enveloped her body. She drew her knees up to her chest, and a violent shiver racked her frame.

“I’m here, Miki. It’s just us. Can you tell me what happened?” The warmth of the hand he placed upon her shoulder scorched through her sweatshirt.

“…o-outside.” She swallowed, throat tight and dry against the lies leaving her lips. “There was…someone scary. In front of the d-door. I thought it was dangerous.”

His taut posture—she hadn’t even noticed how on edge he had been—loosened, but his concern remained. “You’re sure it was a person?”

As she nodded, police sirens blared in the distance.

Miki cringed. “Th-The police are coming here. I pressed the alarm button, so...”

“Don’t worry. They’re not going to think any more about us after we give a statement—”

Shifting forward, she buried her face into his shoulder and dug her fingers into his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her and, even after the officers arrived, he kept a hand on her shoulder.

The police questioning, finishing with unloading—despite being thrown off schedule, Koga was understanding—and opening the store passed by in a blur. Yet she never stopped moving. Before she knew it, she found herself halfway through rearranging every single item in the store into perfect order. Labels facing forward, price tags under correct objects, the bargain bin as organized as it had ever been. Whenever a customer entered she’d greet them and plaster on a smile.

At first her brother insisted she rest and not go to school today, both of which she curtly disagreed to. So he let her be. He did express confusion and worry over the blood smeared on the counter, but she assured him it wasn’t hers, and he cleaned it up no less puzzled.

Her phone buzzed incessantly in her pocket. She ignored it and turned around a box of candies.

She’d see them soon, away from this store where she saw—

No.

No, she didn’t see _that._

She saw a man. Or woman. A _person._ A definite _human_ who was standing outside the door and freaked her out. Nothing came inside the store.

Nothing.

The door opened again. When Miki turned around, she saw Miyahara and Kuroda walking in. They were college students and not supposed to work today, but Kanzaki called them in to mind the store so he could walk Miki to school. It was nearing lunchtime already.

After letting the pair settle in, she and Kanzaki headed out. He stirred up a chat with her and, despite the forced merriness in her responses, he seemed satisfied enough that she could handle going to school. Naturally he made sure to ask her one more time if she really wanted to go, though.

Once they arrived he walked her to the door. After shifting her backpack on her shoulders and waving, Miki went inside started down the hallway.

Four familiar voices echoed from an adjacent hall she was approaching. Within the next few moments her friends turned the corner and, upon seeing her, scrambled to her side.

They barraged her with questions. Then Aya, grabbing Miki’s hand, told the rest to back off and let her breathe. Miki gratefully squeezed the other’s fingers.

Kanzaki had texted them earlier about what happened, and online articles had been posted about the event. Yet she knew they wanted to hear it from her mouth, so she told them.

Told them about the scary strange person outside of the store’s door.

Her voice trembled once, but she felt oddly numb. When she finished they were equal parts relived she was okay and grimly deliberative.

“…the police…are they going to say anything to your parents?” Onoda tentatively asked.

Miki stilled.

“They’re not getting you back!” Naruko insisted.

Manami frowned, the rare expression furrowing his brow and dissipating his usual airy demeanor. “You said the door was locked, and the others were at the back door. Your parents can’t claim that Toji left you in danger.”

Miki released an uneven breath. “Y-Yeah. Uh, the police didn’t say they would tell them, so…”

“Then that means everything’s okay,” Aya asserted. They all knew Miki’s situation: she was living with her older brother, but he wasn’t her legal guardian. That honor belonged to her parents. Because they refused to hand over custody of her—her father had to keep face as a member of the neighboring city’s police department—they made a deal with Kanzaki a year ago: as long as he was “competent,” she could live with him.

They still made jabs about Kanzaki’s “crazy phase” in high school. How he was found in the woods, knee decimated and pouring blood, and spouted incoherent ramblings of a horrid creature. Whispers of “poor boy” and “not right in the head” followed him for weeks until he rescinded his story.

Honestly, Miki still didn’t know what happened back then. Whatever it was, if she showed a hint of instability, it would be all too easy for her parents to say Kanzaki was affecting her mental health…

Aya gave her a side-hug, anchoring her to the present. “It’s lunchtime, you know. We were going to sneak out and check on you.”

Miki slid an arm around the other. She reveled in the closeness and the safety it offered. “Then that means we’re all starving.” She pulled away, and the heavy fears weighing down her shoulders lessened just enough for her to give a genuine, if small smile. “Let’s go eat!”

Everyone’s mood collectively lightened. Stomachs growling, they hurried to the lunchroom and got in line. As expected, they were the last ones, so when they all received their meals they looked around for the last open seats.

Onoda pointed at a table near a back, and then another toward the side. “I only see two spots big enough for all of us.”

The first spot was where Imaizumi sat alone, surrounded by empty chairs. Miki wasn’t too surprised; she recalled that even when he did sit with others he never kept up conversation or showed active interest.

“What, near that hotshot?” Naruko tsked and crossed his arms. But when he glanced at the other area, he already knew what they would choose.

After all, the second spot was right beside Midousuji’s group. No one messed with Midousuji or his allies. Unlike the typical bullies, they didn’t go out of their way to attack others—unless they had a goal to achieve. Whoever interfered with those goals was cruelly and swiftly dealt with, whether it be through Doubashi’s crushing punches or Midousuji’s cunning plans. Mizuta, Doubashi, and Komari followed the lanky, unnerving student with remarkable dedication.

The oldest member, Ishigaki, knew how to curb the group’s worst tendencies. Unlike the others, he was a friendly and mature presence. No one could figure out why he stuck by Midousuji’s side.

Aya huffed. “I’m not sitting beside them, especially with that traitor.”

They all knew who she was referring to: Midousuji’s recruit, their former friend Sugimoto. Said teenager was turned away from them where he conversed with Ishigaki.

Instead of betrayal, Miki shared a forlorn look with Onoda and Manami. There had to be a reason why Sugimoto left her and her friends, but she didn’t know what it was. One day, a couple months ago, he had just stopped talking with them and started hanging out with Midousuji’s crew.

She led the way to Imaizumi and pulled out the seat beside him. When he looked up in confusion, she only grinned amiably and sat down. Aya sat down beside her while Onoda and Manami sat across. Naruko grumbled something under his breath before sitting next to Onoda.

“I didn’t say you all could sit here?” Imaizumi pointed out, but he sounded more bewildered accusing.

“We sure as hell aren’t sitting next to Midousuji.” Aya pierced a steamed carrot with her fork and took a bite.

Imaizumi sighed. “Fair enough.”

Manami sipped at his juice box and set it down. “How’s your day going?”

“Fine. Not too thrilled about later, since I’m no good at painting.”

Miki turned her head to him. “Oh, that’s right. You’re in my art class.”

“I wish I was good at art.” Onoda chimed in. “There are so many good fanartists! I’ve commissioned a few for Love Hime characters.”

A sly look crossed Naruko’s features. “Oh, really? And what kind of poses did ask for, hm?”

Red colored the bespectacled teenager’s face, and he waved his hands defensively. “J-Just normal things! Like running or doing a victory sign.”

“What about kabedon? It’s still pretty popular,” Imaizumi offhandedly remarked, and he raised his water bottle to his lips.

“Kabedon…” Naruko softly repeated, as if he was coming to an important realization.

“That thing where you pin someone against the wall,” Aya added, tone matching his.

Manami hummed. “Yep. Onoda told us he's seen it in a lot of fanart too.”

Aya and Naruko’s gazes snapped to Imaizumi. “You’re a nerd?!” They simultaneously exclaimed.

Imaizumi choked on his drink. While he coughed and spluttered, Miki hid her giggles behind her hand. Onoda was practically sparkling with glee.

She was glad she came to school.

\--

In art class, Miki placed her backpack beside an empty chair at Imaizumi’s table. Instead of commenting on it, he waited for her, and then they headed into the classroom’s large supply closet.

Many half-finished canvases sat on a shelf. She maneuvered around a student to reach her own piece. After carefully grabbing it, she turned to see Imaizumi walking to the backmost shelf where a single covered canvas lay.

Or rather, mostly covered. Someone must have bumped against it, if the corner peeking out from underneath white cloth was any indication.

Even if she couldn’t see the talented brush strokes, which used swipes of gray, green, and brown to recreate the old tunneled railroad tracks in town, she could tell by how respectfully Imaizumi re-covered it that it was Aoyagi’s incomplete artwork.

Silent, she watched him then pick up his own painting and followed him back into the main classroom. They spent the rest of the period working and talking. At one point she asked him if he’d like to hang out with her and the others that afternoon. He hesitated and said that Naruko would surely dislike that, but he relented amusedly upon hearing her respond with “he’ll get over it.”


	4. Burnout

Wet crimson seeped through the brown paper towel covering damaged knuckles. Arakita scowled as he observed his hand; the closest school bathroom had had only one pathetically thin paper towel left. He didn't try checking a different bathroom lest he risk running into another fight.

Not that he wanted to avoid the brawling itself. Snarling insults and throwing punches were a part of his school routine. A long time ago he may have considered his fighting to be a means of protecting himself, and while it still was to an extent, he’d by lying if he said that the spars didn’t help release the restless, turbulent energy that so often resided within him.

However, his sisters were growing equally exasperated and worried at the increasing amount of bloodstained clothes and injuries as of late. If he went home with dripping knuckles now, he would undoubtedly get another earful.

He stopped in front of Kanzaki Konvenience. Glancing inside, he spotted two familiar students. One was a junior like himself—the red hair and lazy smirk could be no one but Shinkai. Which meant the younger, muscular sophomore could only be Izumida, Shinkai’s recent boyfriend.

Arakita gritted his teeth. Of course people he knew had to be working right now, when he wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible. Since school ended not too long ago, there was no chance of them leaving soon.

But wrapping up his hand and hiding it from his sisters was a better option than not, so he braced himself and went inside.

Luckily, Shinkai and Izumida were too busy with each other to pay attention to him yet. He sidled over to the medical section and observed the bandages.

“You don’t have to stand with me the whole time, Izumida. You can do your homework on the counter while I work.”

“I can do it later. Besides, I would rather talk to you.”

Arakita observed a box of large adhesive bandages. Maybe he could make these work. They were the least expensive option, except for the regular sized ones that would have no hope of covering the split skin on his knuckles.

“How’s Ms. Yui’s fern? You said it wasn’t doing well.”

“I’ve been helping her nurse it back to health. We put it in a different pot and soil, and I think it’s getting better.”

“Good. That fern’s in good hands. Ah, apologize to Ms. Yui for me the next time you see her.”

Arakita had five dollars in his wallet. Would these bandages stay in place even when he curled his fingers? He doubted it, but he could make do.

“What did you do?”

“Left an energy bar in her room. Apparently it attracted ants. Which reminds me, I need to pick some more food up today. Want anything?”

“No, but thanks. I need to stick to my food and exercise regimen better.”

Grabbing the box of bandages, he mentally braced himself and marched to the counter. Shinkai was turned toward Izumida, who mournfully reached around to rub his mid-back.

“I think Fabian is losing definition.”

Shinkai placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure Fabian looks as good as always, but if you want me to help you get a good workout tonight—”

Arakita slammed the box on the counter, earning a flinch from Izumida and a raised eyebrow from Shinkai.

“Can I please. Buy this. Before you two start talking about fucking?” he demanded through gritted teeth.

Izumida’s face flared red. “H-He didn’t mean it like that! …I think?”

Shinkai just grinned and slowly swiped the item over the scanner. “…we can do whatever you want, Izumida.”

Izumida buried his burning face in his hands while Arakita resisted the urge to strangle the redhead.

“That’ll be $3.02. Want anything else?” Shinkai coolly asked.

“Hell no.” Pulling out his money, he handed four singles to the other.

As he accepted the cash, the redhead’s gaze flicked to the red staining the paper towel over his hand. The amusement dancing in his eyes vanished. He inputted the amount given and handed back the change.

Satisfied, Arakita walked to the single stall bathroom in the back corner of the store.

He stepped inside and locked the door behind him. After opening the box, he pulled out a few and set them on the sink. Then he peeled off the bloody paper towel, tossed it in the trash can, and scrutinized the damage.

His knuckles had almost stopped bleeding, at least. The busted skin attested to the sharpness of the bastard’s jawline he struck.

Turning his hand, he checked over the faded orange and red bandana tied around his wrist. To his relief, no blood marred the tiny apple design.

Three knocks on the door made him flinch. “What?”

“Open the door for a sec,” Shinkai’s voice insisted.

Arakita hesitated. He considered refusing, but past memories reminded him that Shinkai had never been anything but amiable to him. He wasn’t terrible company, either, despite the food crumbs he often left in his wake. Not that Arakita would ever admit that.

And honestly, attempting to refuse the laid-back yet stubborn male would be more effort than it was worth anyway.

“…all right.”

Turning the handle, he cracked open the door. A hand, which held a roll of gauze, slid through.

“Here. If you wrap it around, it should help keep the bandages in place.”

He stared at the offered item. “I didn’t pay for that.”

“I know. I did.”

Another few seconds passed, and he was grateful the other couldn’t see his face. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he tentatively took the roll. “…thanks,” he murmured.

“No problem.” His hand slid back out, and the door closed.

After pressing in on the lock again, Arakita returned to the sink. He inhaled deeply, released the breath, and wondered why he suddenly felt so tired as he turned on the warm water.


	5. Naruko

Muffled curses floated up to Naruko and Onoda’s ears as they walked on the road beside the river.

They stopped and shared a confused glance. In order to reach the actual riverbank, one would have to use the vertical drop beside the road, and on this side there was no easy slope to climb back up.

“Did an idiot jump down there?” Naruko questioned.

“Maybe there was something down there they needed?” Onoda suggested. “Let’s see if they need help.”

“All right. But if it’s any bullies we know, then I’m leaving ‘em there.”

The bespectacled boy flashed him a small, knowing smile as they walked over to the edge of the drop. “No you wouldn’t.”

Naruko returned the grin. “You’re right. I’m too awesome to leave a damsel in distress.”

Crouching down, they peered over the fifteen foot dirt cliff.

At the bottom a scowling male cursed again and plunged his fingers into the hard soil. However, because he used only one arm, he couldn’t gain enough leverage to climb. His other arm held a bunched up jacket against his torso. His black hair and clothes were plastered to his skin, and he blinked away a stray droplet that fell down his brow. He hadn’t noticed them yet; his attention flicked between the jacket and the wall of soil in front of him.

A junior, Arakita. Naruko knew a little bit about him. Known for his frequent fights and quick fuse, Arakita avoided anyone except those who dared to throw insults or start a brawl.

Onoda inhaled sharply and pointed to a wet plastic bag near the struggling boy. Then Naruko noticed a tiny lump of unmoving drenched fur sticking out of it, and his shock swiftly burned into anger.

“What kind of fucking sicko would drown kittens?” the redhead loudly seethed.

Arakita craned his head up and clenched his jaw. “Goddamn, does everyone think I would do this? Stop blaming me and look!”

He shifted the jacket until they could see damp black fur. Naruko’s ire simmered down as he realized what it was.

“You’re trying to save one!” Relief and acclaim were palpable in Onoda’s voice.

Arakita rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Thank God someone finally noticed.”

Had others passed by and refused to help? Naruko harshly clicked his tongue. Whatever Arakita’s deal was, he was trying to save a kitten now. He couldn’t imagine walking away.

“Hold on, we’ll get you out!” The redhead laid down on his stomach and reached his hand down.

Arakita shot him an unimpressed look. “I appreciate the attempt, but both of you are way too short for me to reach your hands.”

Growling under his breath, Naruko couldn’t deny it. His crimson gaze darted around the slow-moving river, the bank, and the road behind them, but he spotted nothing that could help. They could try using their shirts like ropes, but there was a chance of them ripping—especially since Naruko’s had a few holes in it already.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed three people walking down the road. His mouth opened to call out, but when he recognized the trio, his mouth clamped shut in aggravation.

Midousuji, Mizuta, and Doubashi. No way in hell would those guys help.

Yet Onoda shot up and stepped toward them. Naruko scrambled to his feet and dashed to Onoda’s side.

“W-We really need your help!” Onoda’s voice shook, but his resolute gaze never left the trio.

Mizuta scoffed while Doubashi cast them a bored look. However, they did slow to a stop. Behind them Midousuji peered at the ones who dared to call out to them, and his eyes narrowed into slits.

“As if. Why would we want to help you?” Mizuta sneered.

Onoda’s shoulders hunched inward, and his eyes dropped to the ground.

There was nothing they could offer them that they’d want. Naruko placed a hand on Onoda’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go back. We’ll figure something else out without these pricks—”

“Please!” Onoda spouted out. Hands clasped tightly together, he met their gazes once more. “Doubashi and Midousuji, you two are tall and strong so maybe—”

Teeth clicking together with far more force than should be possible interrupted him. White teeth bared, Midousuji straightened his spindly torso and tilted his head just a little too much for comfort. The veins in his thin neck stood out amongst his pale skin.

 _What the fuck._ Naruko threw an arm in front of Onoda.

“You heard him.” Midousuji drawled, and as he spoke he dragged slim fingers down his own cheek. “We have no interest in insects…unless you have something to offer.”

Mizuta’s braces gleamed when he grinned. Doubashi crossed his arms with an amused smirk.

Naruko gritted his teeth, and a bead of sweat ran down his temple. Neither he nor Onoda spoke.

Midousuji tugged mercilessly at the skin on his jawline. “As expected. The squashed red bean can’t even afford to eat lunch every day, and the frightened mouse has only a mother who meanders through bills by taking tedious jobs and child support. Your _combined status_ is equivalent to _a crippled house fly._ ”

Rage burned away Naruko’s wariness.

“Shut the hell up,” Naruko growled. “Where do you get off shit-talking us about money?!”

“Not money. _Resources_ ,” he hissed.

“Give it up. You’re not going to get anywhere,” Doubashi advised, amused. “What do you want us for anyway?”

“Arakita is stuck by the river,” Onoda tentatively explained.

Doubashi glowered. “Leave the bastard. If you hang around him, you’ll get sucked into more fights.”

“Time?” Midousuji interjected. His head whipped toward Mizuta.

Mizuta jumped at the sudden order, and then he fumbled for his phone. “Uh…5:47.”

Midousuji muttered something before walking away. The other two trailed after him.

“Screw you guys. You could have just said no!” Naruko shouted after them.

Onoda released a shaky sigh. “It could have been worse, I guess.”

“Whatever,” Naruko dismissed, but he swore that next time Midousuji’s gang talked like that he’d punch in someone’s face. They returned to the edge of the drop.

“Was that Doubashi?” Arakita called up.

“Yeah,” the redhead confirmed.

“He’s probably still pissy that I knocked his tooth out last month.” Arakita glanced down at the bundle in his arm, and his sharp features softened with concern.

“Maybe I can go get a rope from somewhere,” Naruko suggested.

Onoda’s eyes lit up. “Wait! Didn’t Imaizumi say he lives in the neighborhood near here?”

“That rich neighborhood? Yeah, I think so.”

“I’ll text him. He’ll know what to do.”

Luckily Imaizumi texted back immediately, and soon he arrived in a sleek black car. Roll of rope in hand, he slid out of the backseat and hurried toward them. The driver drove off to find the nearest parking lot.

“We had some in the garage,” Imaizumi said as they led him to the spot. He let down one end of the rope and instructed Arakita to tie it around his waist.

“Naruko, help me pull him up. Onoda, get ready to take the kitten.”

“I never said I was taking orders from you,” Naruko grumbled, but he wrapped his arms around Imaizumi anyway.

Arakita managed to find a few shallow footholds along the way, and they managed to get him to the top. He handed Onoda the kitten so he could drag himself over the edge.

“Thanks,” Arakita said, and his eyes darted back to the small feline. Blue eyes wide and body shivering, it mewled weakly and tried to move its limbs. The cloth surrounding it prevented it from squirming away.

“We should take it to a vet,” Onoda insisted.

“It’s Saturday. None are open today,” Naruko reminded.

“My house is close. It can stay there, and I’ll ask my driver to pick up some things for it,” Imaizumi decided.

Onoda beamed. “Thank you so much, Imaizumi! I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“He’s right,” Naruko begrudgingly admitted. His and Imaizumi’s attitudes contrasted like oil and water, and due to that they argued often. But Naruko would never deny that Imaizumi was a good guy, as well as a good friend.

Imaizumi glanced away and cleared his throat.

“I’m gonna go back down there and check around some more. I didn’t see any other kittens, but might as well look.” Arakita swept drying bangs off his forehead.

“We can look,” Naruko offered, and he smiled at Onoda’s approving glance. “I bet hotshot doesn’t know the first thing about animals, and you need a change of clothes anyway. Go with him.”

“Hah?”

“We’ll go on the opposite side of the river where there’s a place to get back up,” Onoda added.

“And we’ll figure everything else out from there,” Naruko finished.

Arakita looked between them, stupefied. When Onoda handed the kitten back to him, he snapped out of it, and his expression returned to his usual, if softer, frown.

“Fine. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Imaizumi released a huff of amusement. “Naruko can’t promise that.”

“Hey!” Grinning, Naruko crossed his arms. “Can it and go. I won’t forgive you if your slowness makes the cat worse.”

As Imaizumi and Arakita left, Naruko and Onoda jogged down the road, over a bridge, and found a slight slope on the riverbank. Their gazes roamed the river and grass with each quick step they took.

Finding nothing but empty soda cans and a burger wrapper, they walked far down the river until they reached the fence. The road had veered away from the water for some time, so no sounds other than the quiet gurgle of water and birds was heard. A sign reading “WARNING: Unstable Ground Beyond This Point” hung on the fence.

Naruko rested his hand against the metal wire barrier. “This is as far as we can go. We should head back.”

“Yeah,” Onoda agreed.

Naruko turned, and then he spotted a plastic bag sitting half in the river. Its handle was caught on a smooth rock, and the bag swayed as the current threatened to pull it downstream.

“Was that there before?” Naruko questioned.

“I didn’t notice it either. I guess we missed it?”

On the off chance it held another creature, the redhead went over to it and crouched beside it. He pinched one side of it, lifted it, and peered inside.

The ground collapsed below his feet.

Water engulfed him. It rushed into his nostrils and mouth and burned against his eyes. Panic seized his body, screeching SWIM SWIM SWIM. The surface was right there, he could see it, he could make it—

Something latched onto his ankle. Lungs burning, he blindly kicked below him, and then he realized the water’s dropping temperature. A film of ice crawled across the surface.

Cold, so cold. Unfettered fear exploded in his mind.

_Worst ice storm in decades. Dad sick, brothers young. Have to get food._

His fingertips were mere inches away from the surface. But his flailing limbs were losing energy, and the corners of his vision darkened.

_Walk and walk and walk. Flurry of blinding snow, end up lost. So, so cold._

He was vaguely aware of his ankle being released. Yellowed fangs suddenly appeared extremely close to his right. The sight paled in comparison to the consuming chill leaking into his bones.

_Nothing but blinding white in sight. Fingers won’t move. Face, legs, everything numb. Feet impossibly cumbersome. Please move, body, please please keep moving—_

A hand plunged through the paper thin sheet of ice and grasped his wrist.

Warm. The fingers were warm.

As if granted a last spark of strength, Naruko forced his free limbs to move one more time.

Gasping and choking, he was half-dragged onto solid ground. Onoda was talking, but he couldn’t focus on the words. Naruko somehow managed to raise himself slightly on one shaking arm before retching water.

Reassuring heat rested on his back—Onoda’s hand. Never more grateful for it, the drenched boy lay there for several minutes coughing. The humid outside air provided relief to his chilled skin. His frame violently shuddered all the while; residual terror lingered with far more intensity than the freezing water.

Onoda’s hand left. Then soft fabric scrubbed his soaked locks before rubbing down his arms.

“Ono…da?” Naruko panted, voice hoarse.

“Oh thank god you’re talking, y-you need to get warm, I think tha’s what I’m supposed to dowhere did the icecomefrom?” The syllables bunched and slurred together as he feverishly wiped the water off his right arm with a now near-soaked shirt.

“I’m…okay.” He squeezed his eyes shut. God it hurt to talk. …wait, shirt?

When he opened his eyes and looked up at the other, he realized Onoda wasn’t wearing a shirt; he was using it to dry him off.

Despite the tremors shaking him, the corner of his lip tugged upward. “Making you worry…it’s pretty lame of me.”

“No no no, don’t say that. I’m just so happy that you…you…” Tears slid down his cheeks.

After a few moments, Naruko shifted into a sitting position and flashed a toothy grin. “I’m fine! I’d be pretty pathetic if I went down that easy.”

Sniffling, Onoda swiped a hand across his eyes and gave a shaky, relieved smile.

Naruko glanced back at the river. The water moved as calmly as ever. Sunlight gleamed off something miniscule, and at first he wondered if it was ice, but it slipped through the fence and left his sight before he could be sure.

Then he remembered the teeth. The lack of oxygen must have conjured that up; he had heard of people hallucinating right before they’re about to die. For a split second there he’d even relived that awful winter where he almost froze to death.

But then there was also the question of what had grabbed his ankle. Definitely not debris or fish. It felt like a humanoid hand.

He shook his head. His heart was still racing, and working himself up would do no good. He stood and pulled off his dripping shirt.

They headed back to the road and walked to Imaizumi’s house. His shivers lessened by the time they reached the building, and he plastered on a smile to combat the weariness tugging at his mind. Onoda’s eyes were still red.

Imaizumi and Arakita ushered them inside and demanded to know what happened.


	6. Fondness

Arakita rested his fingers on the kitten’s head. The feline ducked out from underneath his hand, climbed to the top of the leather couch, and puffed out his chest as he sat down, as if to show off the patch of silver fur decorating his otherwise black fur there.

“You ungrateful little shit. I saved you from drowning,” Arakita grumbled.

“Maybe he’d be nicer if you stopped calling him names,” Imaizumi commented as he sat down beside him. It had been a few days since they rescued the kitten, and he’d recovered quickly to everyone’s relief. All of their friends came by frequently to check up on him, and, by now, it was obvious no one had the heart to take him to the shelter. Imaizumi had the most room and money, and, in his words, it made the most sense to let the cat stay where he was used to.

Manami, lounged in an armchair across from them, hummed in agreement. “Isn’t there a saying about how you’re not supposed to insult people in their own house?”

Arakita crossed his arms. “He’s a cat. He doesn’t own this place. If anything he’s a freeloader.”

The kitten’s dark blue eyes watched the male’s movement, and then he placed one paw on top of the other.

“I think he’s trying to copy you!” Manami grinned.

Imaizumi tilted his head to gaze up at the feline, who lost balance and sunk his claws into the upholstery to catch himself. Good thing his parents were never home to see those new marks on the couch. “I noticed it yesterday too. But why does he only do that with Arakita?”

“I swear to god he’s mocking me.” Arakita sighed and rose from his seat. Idly toying with the faded bandana around his wrist, he headed to the kitchen.

Manami shifted so that he lay sideways on the chair. Letting his arm dangle over the edge, he kept his gaze on the feline and experimentally ran his fingertips over the plush carpet.

Attention immediately captured, the kitten hunched down, intently watched his fingers for a moment, and then scrambled down Imaizumi’s shoulder and arm. After an ungraceful vault off the couch seat, he dashed toward Manami.

“Have you named him yet?” Manami asked. The cat’s paws darted out and narrowly missed his index finger. Uncaring of possible future nicks to his skin, the blue-haired male kept teasingly shifting his fingers across the floor.

Amused, Imaizumi considered offering the other one of the many cat toys littering the corner of the living room. However, he had a feeling Manami wouldn’t bother using one anyway, and another scratch or two was nothing for the guy who regularly climbed trees and houses.

“…I thought about Kuroda,” Arakita, out of sight in the kitchen, called back.

“Not bad,” Imaizumi replied.

Kuroda suddenly dropped into a crouch. His head flicked back and forth to follow the movement of Manami’s hand. After an excited wiggle of his rear he dashed forward to try to capture his target again.

As he returned to the living room, Arakita made it a few steps in before Kuroda noticed him. When he did, the kitten jumped back from Manami, swiped his tongue over his paws a few times, and sat up straight.

“Seriously, what the hell?” Arakita demanded.

A chuckle left Imaizumi’s throat. “It’s like he’s trying to act cool in front of you.”

“It is,” Manami agreed.

“I don’t think cats have the awareness to do that kind of thing…” Yet Arakita’s huffiness settled, and he didn’t complain when Kuroda climbed up his jeans to get back on the couch cushions.


End file.
